Twilight's Flash Fiction / Relatos cortos crepusculares

Heart Its heartbeat, sometimes immense, other times inaudible, is always with me. Loving phrases hidden in the melody of its vigorous urges. I wanted to keep it to always listen to the melody of it. For this reason, when she died, I extracted her heart and I have it in an urn, from which, with its heartbeat, she continues to tell me that she loves me.   Corazón Sus latidos, unas veces inmensos, otras veces apagados, me acompañan siempre. Frases amantes ocultas en la melodía de sus vigorosos impulsos. He querido conservarlo para escuchar siempre su melodía. Por eso, cuando murió, extraje su corazón y lo tengo en una urna, desde la que, con sus latidos, me sigue diciendo que me quiere.

They They are they. I hear them coming down the hall. I hide my head under the pillow and hold my breath. Silence. A tense silence. Then muffled laughters and an unbearable smell of wax. Something slimy and acid rises to the throat. I try to scream but it just spasms that doesn't allow the vocal cords to make any sound. Chills that rise from head to toe. Completely attentive attention to sounds. Silence. Something hot comes out of the nose. I imagine them on the pillow, very close to my forehead. Throbbing in the temples and that smell of wax ... smell of wax, which reminds me of the endless days in the funeral home. I have never seen them, but at the same time it is as if they were part of me, as if at the same time they were inside me. They are the nameless ethereal ones, ready to take me to the other side.     Ellas Son ellas. Las oigo acercarse por el pasillo. Oculto la cabeza debajo de la almohada y contengo la respiración. Silencio. Un tenso silencio. Luego ris...

  Compassion She wandered the room looking for the compassion her son had lost. She had to be there, because there her son had filled her with reproaches and sadness. For an instant she hoped to find her because she knew compassion left a trace of her. But at that moment, stunned and sad, she did not see that compassion had taken refuge in the childish face of a photo that rested on the table in the living room. That face she wanted so much. Tears blurred the vision of the room, but something seemed to shine in that photo. She moved closer and the loving eyes of her son returned the loving gaze that she had always had. That was when she discovered her, and she knew that compassion would return to the soul of the one who was the reason for her life.   Compasión Recorrió la estancia buscando la compasión que había perdido su hijo. Tenía que estar allí, porque allí su hijo le había llenado de reproches y de tristeza. Durante un instante tuvo la esperanza de encontrarla po...